Destiny
by Outtie
Summary: Maybe Zelena wasn't the first female to get her hands on Rumple's dagger and maybe there is more to the events in "Skin Deep" then we know. Basically Destiny is a collection of Rumbelle shorts. Enjoy.
1. Destiny

Destiny

He felt it immediately.

Rumpelstiltskin shuddered.

The dizziness and nausea nearly choked him as he, helpless, was pulled away from his spinning wheel and pushed through the woods as if a blade were prodding him in the back. The powerful magic tugging him ever faster to the one place he wanted least to go.

Someone had discovered his dagger.

He emerged into the clearing with a grimace of hatred on his face to find a small child digging in the soft earth with _his_ dagger.

"THAT'S NOT YOURS!" he growled at the child.

The child looked up from her digging and he realized it was a girl, perhaps seven or eight years old.

"It can't be yours" the child said, "It's been buried for at least two hundred years, I'd say, given the depth and the other pieces I found above it", she gestured to her right towards a pile of pottery shards and animal bones. He could see why she'd held onto the knife, it was the only object she'd found that wasn't broken. "And you couldn't possibly be two hundred years old" she continued, "unless you were a fairy or something. Are you a fairy?"

"NO!" Rumpelstilskin growled, "Not even close."

"Then this can't be yours" she repeated. Smiling she returned to her new excavation, again using his immensely powerful dagger to gig at a small hole in the dirt.

"How did you come to find that blade, Dearie" he asked, trying a different tactic.

"Oh, I read about this place in one of my books…"

"A… book?" The Dark One repeated disbelieving his own ears.

"Yes" she smiled broadly and leaned over to retrieve the book from her bag.

Unfortunately, she didn't drop the knife to do it.

"According to my book" she said, flipping pages in the ornately decorated book until she came to a page with an illustration of a castle, "A great castle once stood on this spot. The castle of the great king usually referred to simple as, The Great Uniter."

The Dark One gazed at the child in apparent puzzlement.

The child noticed his puzzlement and said, "You see, before there were the many Enchanted Kingdoms in the realm, there was only one, a mighty empire united under a wise and kind king..."

"Everyone knows this story, Dearie" The Dark One said, closing the book with a magical flick of his pinky. _Why is this silly bookworm not afraid of me?_ He wondered as he absently plotted to snap her neck and pry the dagger from her lifeless fingers.

The child looked towards the west, apparently puzzled as to where the sudden gust of wind had come from to close her book so abruptly. "Well," she continued her story, this time setting the book aside, "did you know that the king kept a powerful sorcerer at his side?"

"Yes, yes…"

"And that the king may not have been as kind as the legend says he was."

"They never are, Dearie." Rumpelstiltskin was growing impatient.

"My book is different from the rest, it doesn't say the king was good and kind at all, it says the king was a cruel tyrant to his people and he only became king of all the lands by forcing his sorcerer to kill all the other kings and their sons as well."

"And by terrorizing the populace into silence on the matter" Rumpelstiltskin added in a whisper.

"Yes. And the king ruled so long that by the time he finally died, at an impossibly old age, there was no one left who remembered the true story of his rise to power."

"No one left…" Rumpelstiltskin echoed hollowly.

The child thought he looked sad, so she hastened to add, "But after that the many kingdoms returned, new kings were chosen to rule each land and the people were happy again."

"Every story needs a happy ending" he nodded, "Speaking of which…" he held out his hand, "my dagger?"

The child looked at him,_ really_ looked at him I mean, for the first time. "Who are you?" she asked. "No man can be old enough to claim to own this knife and yet…"

"I am not a man."

"You look like a man to me" the child said, "But your skin is so unique; are you from another realm; Perhaps one across the water?"

"I am not from across the water or from another realm at all. I am simply a monster, Dearie. That is all you need to know."

"You're not a monster! Monsters are scary beasts that gobble up little children who… who run away from home."

"Did you run away?" he asked gently, for a moment at least forgetting who he was and remembering who he was all at the same time.

"Maybe a little" she said cautiously, "My father doesn't like me to read books all the time. He wants me to learn to act like a 'lady' and I don't like it."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there, Dearie" Rumpelstiltskin sang, "A lad is a lad and lady is a lady and a lady can't become a laddie any more than a laddie can become a lady. Magic can do much, but not that."

The child laughed and clapped her hands, enjoying his strange manner of speaking, "Really, it's not that I mind being a lady" she said, "It's just that I don't enjoy balls or dancing nearly as much as I enjoy my books. And learning which fork to use at a dinner party isn't nearly as exciting as looking for buried treasure in the woods."

"No I don't suppose it is," he said, "But I would think digging with a sharp blade like that was a poor way to go about it…" Rumpelstiltskin magic'd forth a shiny golden spade with a ruby encrusted hilt. "This would be much more useful, don't you think?"

The child looked from him to the golden spade, her eyes wide and shining, "You ARE a wizard, aren't you, a real honest to goodness wizard!"

"In the, 'er…, well, let's call it flesh" The Dark One quipped.

"But if you're a wizard why would you want a twisted old knife for?"

"Because it's mine, Dearie" he coaxed.

"It's yours… so that must make you Rumpelstiltskin!" she gushed, brandishing the knife to show off the name on the hilt.

Rumpelstiltskin tensed as the magic pulled on him from the unknowing child's grip.

"Please" he begged, "I must have that dagger, you're making me ill waving it about like that!"

"I don't understand…"

"That dagger is mine" he said through his clenched teeth, "It's a part of me. When someone else holds it, they hold my freedom in their hands."

"You mean I can control you with it?"

"Yes!" he growled, the words coming unbidden to his tongue, drawn forth by the power of the dagger.

The child narrowed her eyes, "Hop on one foot" she ordered, pointing that dagger at Rumpelstiltskin.

Rumpelstiltskin hopped.

"Pat your head" she ordered.

Rumpelstiltskin patted.

"Rub your belly."

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed.

"Now do all three at once!"

Rumpelstiltskin did.

The child laughed rocking back and forth on her knees in merriment.

Rumpelstiltskin scowled, "I'm glad I could amuse you, Mistress. What would you have me do next, dance like a chicken, perhaps?"

She stopped laughing and became suddenly serious, "I'm sorry," she said, "I was only testing to see if the magic was real. I didn't mean to make fun of your plight. It must be awful to be under someone else's power like that. Here take it." she handed the dagger back to him, hilt first. Rumpelstiltskin accepted it eagerly, pulling it delicately from her hand, careful not to scratch the tender flesh.

"You should hide it better next time" she said solemnly.

"Well it seemed to work for the last two hundred years or so" Rumpelstiltskin quipped.

The child smiled and rose to her feet; tucking her book back into her bag. She picked up the golden spade and looked from it to her bag and back to Rumpelstiltskin. She held out the spade. "Here, this is yours too" she said, "Besides, how would I explain it to my father? If I told him I found it in the woods, he would come out here with a hundred men and tear the place apart."

The Dark One shrugged and waved his hand over the spade, turning it from gold and rubies to common iron and wood, "There now, Dearie. I think that should solve all your problems" he paused, "well that one anyway."

The child smiled and gazed at the spade, she seemed oddly more pleased by the simple tool than by the golden one he'd tried to tempt her with earlier.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Dearie. You run home now. It's getting far too late for little girls to play in the woods. There are dangerous beasts about you know."

The child nodded, reluctantly agreeing. As she turned and headed for the path home, Rumpelstiltskin called to her, "Wait!" he said, "What's your name child?"

"My name is Belle" she called back to him as she disappeared into the woods.

The Dark One watched her as she disappeared, almost absently he repeating her name in a whisper, "Belle…"

THE END


	2. Home

**Home**

_Rumplestiltskin:__ As you wish...  
__Belle:__ No, wait! I will go with him.  
__Gaston:__ I forbid it, Belle!  
__Belle:__ No one decides my fate but me! I shall go.  
__Rumplestiltskin:__ It's forever, dearie.  
__Belle:__ My family, my friends... they will all live?  
__Rumplestiltskin:__ You have my word.  
__Belle:__ Then you have mine. I will go, with you, forever.  
__Rumplestiltskin:__ Deal! (giggle fit)  
__Maurice:__ Belle... Belle... you cannot do this! Belle, please! You cannot go with this... beast.  
__Belle:__ Father... Gaston... it's been decided.  
__Rumplestiltskin:__ You know, she's right. The deal is struck. _

Belle hummed an old melody from her childhood as she dusted the Dark One's knickknacks; despite her recent captivity she felt happy here in her Master's house, among his books and his treasures. She might not be able to travel to distant lands or even to leave the dark castle, but she had discovered a deep well within herself for dreaming and his wonderful treasures from across the realms (or his 'things' as he liked to call them) fueled her dreams of adventure and romance to such an extent that she hardly noticed the passage of the days, weeks and months. Her beautiful golden dress grew frayed at the edges and she wondered if the dark one would give her another if she asked him.

If Rumplestiltskin noticed her dress he made no sign of it and Belle herself hardly cared anymore. What use was a pretty dress with no one to see it? As usual she quickly forgot her troubles as she indulged in her favorite pastime - daydreaming. Her mind turned quickly to one adventure or another, recalling the books she'd read over and over throughout her childhood.

One morning thinking of a particularly thrilling story about the genie of the lamp, she spent several happy hours gathering lamps from around the castle and rubbing them vigorously to see if Rumplestiltskin had a _real_ magic lamp amongst his 'things'. For his part Rumplestiltskin, who was watching his maid that morning as he often did through a small magic mirror, found this rather amusing and he made sure there were more lamps in his house that morning then there ever had been before. The _real_ magic lamps in his possession were of course sealed up in his vault, but he wasn't about to let his little maid rub _those_. Genies were far more trouble than they were worth in his opinion and in any case the lamps in his castle could use the polishing.

His amusement faded as he watched Belle climb a tall shelf to get at an old lamp half hidden by cobwebs on the top shelf. He could see the old wood straining under her weight as she climbed.

As the shelves gave way, he reached through the mirror and pulled her back down to the ground, making sure she landed lightly enough to escape serious injury, but hard enough to teach her a lesson about climbing up shelves when all she had to do was _ask_ for a ladder in the first place.

Belle sat still on her now bruised backside and watched as the shelves, trinkets and one very dirty old lamp fell down around her as she sat safely within a protective bubble of some kind that the heavier objects bounced off of; she knew that Rumplestiltskin must have saved her and that he must have some way of keeping an eye on her.

Looking at the debris around her Belle felt sick with shame and fear. Shattered knickknacks littered the floor; among them a book that Belle had not noticed before. Many of the tattered old book's pages had come loose and were now scattered around her. Clearly the old book's bindings had proven unequal to the strain of being dropping twenty feet onto a hardwood floor. _Why would he save ME and not these beautiful old books? _she wondered. Perhaps he meant to punish her in some other way for this transgression. He had a very dangerous reputation, as she knew, but she had never known him to be cruel to her. Not especially kind perhaps. But he had given her a pillow.

Slowly Belle rose unsteadily to her feet and began to clean up her mess. Carefully she picked up all the pages and set them aside, noting that the book seemed to be written in an old language that she could not read. Gently she shook the shards of broken glass and porcelain from the pages so that she could study the pages and try to figure out the order they belonged in.

As she gathered the loose pages a name on one of the pages caught her eye, '_de Ravin' ..._ What was her family's name doing in a book on Rumplestiltskin's book shelf? Scanning the page she realized that this text was different from the other pages she'd gathered so far. It was in Latin! Latin was an old language that was still used to keep records in her kingdom and the best part was that Belle knew she could read it.

Setting the rest of the loose papers she'd gathered aside, her brow furrowed in concentration, she slowly began to read the rest of the page... _and also in that year William de Ravin, squire of his majesty's chamber pot, did defeat the usurpers singlehandedly; Bringing peace back to the land. In recompense of which he was made Sir William de Ravin, knight of his majesty's shield and given Flandor castle with all its lands and monies in perpetuity for him and his descendants. For such is the honor the king will bestow on the brave; no matter what their station in life._

_Sir William de Ravin (portrait on following page) served his majesty faithfully for forty years until his death at the age of eighty-one. He is buried at Flandor, where his descendants still live to this day._

...following this passage was a family tree which looked all too familiar to Belle, who had seen the same names repeated on her father's wall. Though the story of how her family attained its position in the nobility was new to her. Her father had left her with the impression that her family had been noble forever. Looking at this family tree she realized that they'd only lived at Flandor for about two hundred years from William to Maurice. _Why would he hide this from me?_ she wondered, _It's hardly shameful to come from humble roots, especially with an ancestor as brave as Sir William to began our family dynasty. Why have I never heard this story before?_ Everybody knows about Victor the Great, the wise and mighty king who united the kingdom under one crown, surely he was the king referred to here, the one who made William de Ravin into_ Sir_ William_._ Excitedly she searched through the scattered pages trying to find the portrait of the famous ancestor she'd never heard of.

"Eureka!" she cried happily as she found the portrait ...William de Ravin had been rather short and a bit portly, but Belle thought she could detect the nobility lurking behind his eyes, _but oh my what funny clothes they wore in those days_! she thought. Belle giggled at the idea of her own father, Sir Maurice, wearing all those ruffles and what a funny looking dagger he was holding; it was all curvy... she stared at the dagger. Somehow she was sure she'd seen it somewhere before...

"Give that back!" growled Rumplestiltskin snatching the book from her hands.

"But..." she pointed to the portrait, "Sir William is my ancestor!" she said.

"I'm well aware of that."

"But I've never even heard of him."

"I'm not surprised."

"Won't you let me read the rest of the story?" she pleaded.

"You won't find another line about 'Sir' William in this book." he tittered, adding, "History books cannot be trusted" he advised," especially when the truth was rather_ inconvenient_ to the king."

"But if this book cannot be trusted, couldn't you tell me what really happened?"

"You won't like it." he sang.

"I want to know the TRUTH." she said, emphasizing the word, "What did my father hide from me?"

"Oh only that your family's wealth and privilege was won on a great big pile of corpses..."

"What?!"

"Your ancestor, William de _Chamber Pot_..." Rumple sneered, " Well one day he came upon a certain dagger, which had been rather_ carelessly_ hidden in a cave near the castle and discovering that the dagger compelled a monster to do his bidding, he used that dagger to defeat all the king's rivals, and by defeat dearie, I mean murder all the king's rivals, which did in a way bring peace to the land, if you don't count all the crying and wailing from the womenfolk who's sons and husband's were mercilessly slaughtered."

"But that's awful!" she cried.

"That's history for you, dearie." he sang, "It's written by the victors you know."

"And you were the monster who killed all those men?"

"Was _compelled _to kill all those men," he corrected, "Even Rumplestiltskin has his standards."

"Oh you poor man..." Belle reached for his hand.

"I am not a man!" he exploded, pushing away her attempt to hold his hand. "Don't feel sorry for me dearie." he sang, letting the sudden burst of anger drain out of his voice, "Old William may have won his battles, but I think the Dark One won the war."

Belle's forehead creased, "I don't understand." she said.

"Oh dear, and here I thought you were rather clever, for a _maid_..."

"Me?" she gasped, "I'm your revenge?"

He smiled, "I guess you are a clever one after all." he giggled.

"You took me from my father to get revenge for something that happened before he was even born?"

"Wonderful isn't it? Timing, my dear ...is everything."

"But why me? Why am I your revenge..."

"Why because YOU are your father's child... his only child" he added, "and the last remnant of old William's flesh and bone still living."

"So..."

"Now there will be no more de Ravin's left to bother me. After you're gone that is." he giggled again.

"Oh." Belle looked down at her shoes feeling very small indeed.

Rumple fought down the tiny wave of compassion he felt for the girl. _It was hardly her fault_, his suppressed conscience pricked him. Scooping up the broken book and loose pages Rumple moved towards the door, "I'll take care of these." he said, jerking his head towards a broom that was leisurely sweeping its way towards Belle, "You clean up this mess. " he paused, "And be quick about it. I expect my tea to be served at the regular time." The door opened for him and he walked out, slamming it in his wake.

"Oh and dearie..." a disembodied voice spoke through the door, "You'll find a new more practical, less... _regal _dress waiting for you in your closet. That one is hardly fitting for a mere maid."


	3. Threads

**THREADS - **in which Belle gets crafty with Rumple's golden cord

Belle watched in fascination as he spun the dull dirty straw into clean shining gold thread. She could tell he was in a good mood today by the growing mound of soft unbroken golden thread. When he was angry the gold came out short and hard more like oversized needles then the soft pliable thread he was spinning today. Quite suddenly he realized that she was watching him and not her own housework. The long thread snapped with a jerk as his practiced rhythm was broken.

"Haven't you anything better to do?" he asked waspishly, "If your chores have proven inadequate to occupy your time, then I suggest you..." he waved his hand and a great wind swept through the dark castle, "...do it all over again."

Belle looked around in dismay as the tidy little castle was transformed into an untidy mess. "Was that really necessary?" she asked, clenching her duster tightly in her fist.

"Yes!" the imp cackled sharply, "And don't forget my dinner!" Rumple added. _If this wench thinks she can soften up the Dark One with warm smiles and hot meals she has another thing coming!_

0

*-}-

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[ [

After many hours of additional dusting (not to mention making the Dark One a meal fit for a king) a thoroughly exhausted Belle dropped her duster and collapsed into her favorite chair in the library. The library had been a gift from Rumple after she'd convinced him not to kill Robin Hood, though he of course denied that this was in any way a kindness, 'just another room to dust' he'd said. But Belle knew there was a genuinely nice man buried somewhere beneath the beast's scaly skin.

Tucking her feet up beside her in the soft comfy chair, Belle angled herself towards the table beside her and picked up the magic mirror (another present from Rumplestiltskin) which allowed her to view any person or place she wished. He'd given it to her so that she could watch her father when she was lonesome for home (_'anything to stop you from over salting my soup with your tears'_) but lately she'd been using it to an entirely different purpose.

"Show me the beast!" she ordered the little gilt mirror, which obliged its mistress by flashing brightly, the scene in the mirror fading from Belle's own reflection into a view of Rumplestiltskin sitting at his wheel. He wasn't spinning now; instead he was sitting quite still cradling a small cup in his hands. _But I haven't brought him his tea yet_? Belle wondered if he'd felt bad about all the extra dusting and decided to get his own tea, but then Rumplestiltskin turned the cup around and Belle realized that it was chipped. _Why would he even keep that?_ she wondered. _He looks so sad just now_ she thought, impulsively hugging the mirror to her chest. He hadn't _acted _mad when she chipped the cup, but perhaps he'd just been kind. Kind? The Dark One? It didn't make any sense, the great fearsome beast having a nice side. But she knew that there was a kindness there, a sort of wary kindness that he tried very hard to conceal and she doubted many people had ever noticed and if they did he'd probably do something awful to camouflage it. Like this morning when he'd messed up the castle to make her stop looking at him like that. It was like he was afraid. Afraid to let anyone get close enough to see what he was really like underneath the quips and the deals.

How she wished she could do something to make him smile. After a few minutes of reflection she grinned as the perfect plan came to her. She would cut a silk square from the golden ball gown she'd arrived in, she was unlikely to need it again after all, and she would make him a pretty handkerchief to keep in his vest pocket.

At once Belle set about cutting out the square and hemming the edge with hundreds of tiny little stitches. She surveyed her work with a frown. The fabric was beautiful and so soft to touch and her little stitches were nearly perfect, but it seemed so plain a gift for a man who had so much gold piled around his castle that he could've bought her whole kingdom thrice over. Then it came to her. The Gold was her answer! Rumplestiltskin had entire rooms filled with golden thread. Much of it was stiff and hard as gold is expected to be, but Belle knew that some of the thread he'd spun recently was finer and softer than the rest. She would take a few strands and stitch his name into the corner of the handkerchief.

Getting the golden thread was easy. Rumplestiltskin loved 'his things' as he called them, but he had little use for gold as he could always make more, so it was a simple matter for Belle to take a few stands from his most recent pile. If Rumplestiltskin wondered why his maid was filching his gold he didn't say anything. Heaven knew she had nowhere to spend it.

When Belle shyly handed him the dainty little silk square with 'Rumplestiltskin' embroidered in small precise letters he felt confused, _why should SHE give HIM a present_? he wondered. _Hadn't he proven to her what a monster he was? _His eyes narrowed, this must be a trick, no one like _her_ would give _him_ a present unless she wanted something in return, "What a loooovely hankie!" he sang to her in a slightly mocking tone. "But if you think that I will let you go..."

"Oh no!" Belle interrupted, sounding well, rather flustered, "I didn't do it to... what I mean is... a deal is a deal. I'm not trying to back out. I... I only did it to be... nice."

"Funny my _last_ maid didn't do things like this." he quipped, at least Belle thought it was a quip, she hadn't quite gotten the hang of her master's quips and she suddenly wondered what exactly _had_ happened to the last maid... "But then she was a _mute_." Rumplestiltskin continued, "Had a gift for drawing poor lamb. Such a pity..."

"Why is it a pity that she liked to draw?" Belle ventured to ask.

"Well let's just say loyalty wasn't her best feature." he said, "But her body made for lovely fertilizer in my garden." Belle blanched; Rumplestiltskin smiled, "That one was a quip, Dearie. Not serious." he held up the handkerchief and rubbed the soft materiel between his fingers, "What an attractive color." he complemented the gift to make up for having scared her, "and so soft too." he hadn't missed the embroidery. _So that was what she'd wanted the gold for_. "Wherever did you get it?" he asked, although he knew full well there was only one item in the castle made of golden yellow silk; he tucked the handkerchief into his vest pocket, as Belle murmured, "I... erm, I cut up an old dress I won't be needing again."

"How very clever you are with your hands. I do hope you have the strength left to make me my tea..." Belle took the hint and scurried out of the room to make his tea.

After she'd gone Rumplestiltskin pulled out the handkerchief and gently pressed it to his face. It was so soft and it smelled so sweet. It reminded him of her. With a wave of his hand he restored his maid's 'old' dress to its original condition. The handkerchief he returned to his vest pocket. Right over his heart.


	4. Booties

**BOOTIES** \- in which Belle knits some golden baby booties

"Belle" Rumplestiltskin said, startling his maid by his sudden appearance. "Yes... master?" The 'master' bit sounded like an afterthought, but he was willing to overlook it. "I'm going out." he informed her, "I may be gone for a day or two. I just thought I'd let you know." _I don't want you to worry _was what he meant, but he was afraid to say so. "Thank you." she replied, but what she really wanted to say was, _I'll miss you_.

Rumple was gone for three days and the castle felt very empty to Belle. She wasn't used to loneliness. In her father's castle she had to order the servants to leave the room if she wanted to be alone and even then she could still hear them chatting and going about their business. She used to cherish those few moments of silence when most of the servants went to bed and she could snuggle up in her own bed and read by candlelight in the near total silence. But the silence _here_ in The Dark Castle was utterly overwhelming in its completeness and solitude was beginning to lose its charm.

When Rumple returned Belle was in for a little surprise. "Here," he said shoving a squirming bundle into her arms, "Take this odorous little creature out of my sight."

Stunned, Belle gently unwrapped the bundle and gazed dazedly at the tiny baby she found inside. She felt tears forming in her eyes. She knew he sometimes dealt in newborns, but this was the first time he'd ever brought one home. Had he known how lonely she was? Belle smiled at the baby and then she smiled at Rumplestiltskin. "I'll take good care of him." she said, then hesitatingly she asked, "How long will he..."

"She." Rumple corrected her, not unkindly.

"But I thought Kings usually want sons..."

"So they do, but this one was a speeeciiiial request for a king who possesses five sons already and a queen who desperately wants a daughter. He also has a rather treasured collection of magic books and other... sundry items that he has decided to part with in exchange for this... 'er item." he paused to sniff the air, "I do hope he and his queen don't mind the stench of pig filth because it may take more than a week to make a pig herd's daughter smell like a princess." Belle sniffed the air too, but she didn't smell filth; just the odor of spring in the country, _is it spring again already?_ she wondered, she missed going outside to read under a tree or against a stone wall. The baby yawned and Belle lost her heart in an instant.

"I suggest you bathe it immediately and often." Rumple commented as he waved them away and returned to his wheel to spin away the last three days tension as Belle hurried off to do as he suggested. He sat down at his wheel and tried to spin, but all he could see was the look of joy he'd seen in Belle's eyes.

O-)D

A baby! Belle's delight knew no bounds. The baby cooed in her arms and when Belle caressed the little face a tiny hand reached out and wrapped itself around her finger. Belle couldn't help crying a little, but at least for once they were tears of joy.

O-)D

As his wheel gathered dust, Rumple watched through his mirror as Belle fed the baby, washed the baby and tucked the baby into the cradle he'd provided in her room. He was happy and fascinated and sad all at once. Watching Belle's happiness made him feel human again, but the sadness of knowing that it must end made him feel even more human. He'd thought it would be a nice present for Belle to have company for a day or two, but seeing just how much Belle loved the child made him wish he'd thrown a bouquet of flowers at her instead. But the deal had been struck and his nature could not allow him to go back on a deal.

He expected her to cry and protest and beg when he came to take the child, but she surprised him by understanding. When she kissed the babe goodbye he could see tears in her eyes, though he pretended not to see them. She had a gift for the baby; a pair of soft handsome golden booties which she'd crocheted lovingly from Rumple's own supply of golden threads.

And ever since that day when Rumple sat at his wheel to spin he would often find himself joined by his maid, who having finished her chores, had chosen a place by his wheel where she would spend a few hours each night crocheting tiny golden booties.


	5. Thanksgiving

**Thanksgiving - In which we learn that not all magic comes with a price tag**

This day in Storybrooke Maine a most astounding thing occurred. They were currently between curses as Grumpy liked to say, and things were going surprisingly, almost unbelievably well, which is to say quietly.

Belle had seen to it that their pink house had been decked out in holiday style, and not a single invitation had been turned down. The meal had been lovely and a perfectly uneventful occasion. Belle as hostess had blessed the meal and after a few minutes of hearty eating she asked everyone to say what they were thankful for this year. Most said 'family', or 'friends'. Hook said 'rum' and Grumpy said 'not having any monsters chasing them in the last two days or so'. Snow and Charming went on and on about how much they loved each other until Emma and Henry starting throwing rolls at them to make it stop.

"And what do you have to be thankful for Belle?" Charming asked, brushing crumbs from the thrown rolls off his sweater.

"Oh, I'm thankful for so many things," she began, rising with her glass to make a toast, "I'm thankful for my husband," she said indicating Rumple, "And for family and for friends, and for books and chipped teacups..." she paused, perhaps realizing that she was going on a bit too much, "But most of all," she continued, "I'm thankful for this wonderful day where we proved that we CAN get along without squabbling if we want to." Belle sat down to generous applause, be it for her speech or because they could finally get back to eating, who can say, Belle was too content to care.

After dinner someone (_Charming_ she thought) had suggested pushing back the furniture to make room for dancing. A table full of delicious desserts was perched at the edge of the room by the punch bowl, which had evidently been spiked with rum (gee I wonder who did that), but nobody seemed to mind.

Belle and Rumple were dancing together, staying well out of the way of some of the more erratic dancers, like Grumpy and Nova who were dancing together under the approving eyes of The Blue Fairy who was holding Cinderella and Aurora's babies while they danced with their husbands.

Charming was teaching Emma to waltz without_ too_ many missteps; while Snow and Regina shared a slice of warm apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream and enjoyed the show.

To save Eric's toes, Ariel had suggested they grab the card table in the corner where they were currently playing Pinochle with Pinocchio and Mulan.

Hook and Henry were sword fighting in a corner using a pair of Mr. Gold's best candlesticks; at least until Belle caught them at it and sent Hook to go get more ice for the punch bowl to help weaken what was left of 'the punch'.

Dr. Whale and Ruby had already given up on the dancing, preferring to snuggle up on the couch instead, but her granny and Geppetto were too busy making eyes at each other over the fast empting punch bowl to notice.

Later on in the evening during a game of charades, Rumple had a few too many glasses of punch and kissed Charming on the cheek. After that he swore off the spiked punch and ended up playing draughts by the fire with Captain Hook (who had definitely NOT sworn off the punch).

Later still after their guests had gone; Belle took off her party frock and cleaned up the worst of the mess, while Rumple did the dishes. Then she kissed her sleepy husband goodnight, and when she was sure that he was fast asleep, Belle slipped out of bed and padded down to his laboratory in her slippers to replace the little volume of magic she'd borrowed earlier, _'Spells of Well-Being and Affability'_ the little gilded cover read. Belle smiled, she wasn't the most powerful of magic users in town, she'd hardly dabbled in fact, but it _had_ been a very easy spell. As in fact most light magic was. (It was mainly dark magic that demanded stiff payment for its use). Happy and content Belle returned to her bedroom and climbed into bed next to her lightly snoring husband.


	6. The Library

The Library

Books were always a comfort and an escape to Belle and the one advantage she'd discovered in her new nearly complete isolation was that she finally had time enough at last to read them.

The library which Rumple had given her 'to dust' was an extensive one and though Belle didn't realize it at first, it was magical. Not merely a repository for magical knowledge you see, but magical in a tangible way as she discovered one day when she was 'dusting' (which had become Belle's code word for searching for a new book to read). Belle felt a bit dreamy and she wasn't sure what exactly she wanted to read, so she walked past shelf after shelf without coming back to the beginning of her search and she had a strange feeling that the library was rearranging itself in some fashion. Not only shifting books from one shelf to another, but somehow adding in extra shelves for her to peruse when she failed to find something to her liking on the previous shelf. Could it be that Rumple's library was somehow bigger on the inside?

Like any good bookworm Belle knew that _books_ were bigger on the inside, you can hold one in your hand and feel it's smallness, it's insignificant weight and yet once you open the cover a whole new world is revealed within... but for a library this was a first!

Then a book caught her eye. It was a thin volume, wedged in between a pair of adventure novels which Belle recognized from her own library back in her father's castle. Its cover was a pale mossy green that reminded her of the forest and its title was The Green Ring.

Sensing that at last she'd found the book she wanted, Belle crossed to the comfy chair, which was no closer and no farther away that it should be, and she opened the book. Normally she was a speed reader, no one she knew could read as fast or retain as much information as she could, but on this occasion she felt she needed to take her time and savor this book. The words flowed under her fingers and as she read she thought she smelled forest and mushrooms, she felt a dampness steal into the air she breathed. Looking up Belle saw the forest spring up around her as the library somehow _became_ the forest; as the books transformed themselves _back_ into trees.

As the rich earthy scents filled her lungs, Belle's heart filled with the exhilaration of adventure. She ran through the wood, leaping over rocks and roots as she went, never breaking stride and never falling, despite the fact she wasn't wearing her shoes. She ran straight to the cottage; she knew she would find, for the book had told her where it was; _deep in the wild wood, near a babbling brook, under an oak tree the little cottage stood_. The door was unhinged and she stepped inside the woman within wept out her tale of woe and despair into Belle's willing ears. Her son had been cursed by a witch who had turned the little boy into a tree for not bowing low enough when she passed and the woman had learned that the only way to break the enchantment was to find the missing ring of the green lady; who was a fairy that protected the woods for many centuries until her ring was lost and her magic dimmed. The woman told her she had a kind and brave face and she asked if she would help her save her boy... Belle would.

...Rumple watched in mute fascination as Belle slept on, heedless for once of her master's call. He wondered how _she_ could've found that book despite the cloaking spells he cast over all the magical books hidden in his library. He remembered his own trip into the woods so many years ago and he wondered if he should tell her where the ring was... would she even hear him?

Feeling somewhat foolish Rumplestiltskin leaned over his maid and whispered into her ear... _The witch hid the fairy ring in the woman's own jewelry box_. _Don't bother with the swamp of desolation; it's a pure waste of time... _Not to mention a smell you'll dream about for weeks, he added to himself. He hoped she'd heard him.


	7. Christmas

**Christmas - a light in the darkness**

Belle held the small glass ball up to her eye.

She was sure she'd seen... something there inside the ornament.

Rumplestiltskin wouldn't be thrilled to see a Christmas tree in his dark castle, but at least Belle had had the good sense to place it in the library which she knew he more or less viewed as hers to do with as she would. She wasn't sure what he had against Christmas, but he hated this time of year, she could tell by the gloomy look on his face at the mere mention of the holidays... Belle hung the ornament on the tree and smiled. Perhaps she could change his mind?

X0X

Rumplestiltskin's skin crawled at the sight. The stupid girl; what would make her think it was acceptable to bring light magic into the Dark One's castle? Yet there it stood a beacon of light polluting his darkness; trying to spark the goodness the darkness dampened. Those twinkling little lights made him feel ill. _I should lock her in the dungeon and throw away the key_! he thought, glaring into the magic mirror, _And I could ZAP all those miserable decorations over to Regina's castle_... let's see how the _Evil Queen_ would like that!

He only made it halfway up the stairs. Cursing his own weaknesses he magic'd himself a warm crocodile coat and gloves (more for appearance than necessity) and stomped off into the snow.

"If I ever catch up with that fat jolly old elf I'll roast his chestnuts for daring to show his face here!" Rumplestiltskin declared.

X0X

If she squinted just right Belle was sure she could make out a cave or a stable of some kind _inside_ the ornament. It seemed strange to her, but the ornaments _had_ been a gift from Father Christmas himself. She could still scarcely believe that he'd come HERE to the dark castle! True Rumple _had_ been away at the time and he'd basically just tossed the box into her arms as soon as she opened the back door offering only a hasty Merry Christmas over his shoulder as he ran off back to his sleigh like he couldn't bear another moment so near the darkness or possibly he was afraid of the Dark One's wrath... Belle smiled to herself at the thought of Rumple yelling at Father Christmas, and then she wondered when it was that she'd stopped being afraid of him. She shook her head and returned to her decorating. _It was rude of him to just run off like that _still it was the thought that counted.

When the next several ornaments featured angels singing she placed them near the top of the tree and then she scattered the shepherds with their sheep all around the little stable with the holy family tucked inside... the last ornament in the box was a star that blazed with a beautiful white light that filled the library even to the darkest corners. Belle knew exactly where that should go...

X0X

Sipping his ale at the now empty tavern, its patrons and barkeep having scattered like leaves the moment he entered the place, Rumplestiltskin frowned into the mirror. _Stupid girl_, she's climbing the shelves to put that awful star on top of that hideous tree... then he saw the shelves starting to give way ..._in an instant the tavern was empty again save for one barely touched cup of dwarf ale and a hastily dropped mirror._


End file.
